Echoes of us ripple through
time like stones skipped, slicing
icy surfaces of winter waters,
thawing. Fumes fog mirrors of lost conversations
confusing things I’m certain you said - all
you’d deny that I did - breath
steaming our rose-tinted glasses, wilting.
Hearts beat against an electric current, leaping
upstream with spectral salmon desperate to
escape inevitables, flee set in stone
choices. Those words we both
carved. Knife upon bark.
Once entwined like ivy, our fingers leave
roadmaps in red pricks of thorns, to one day
find a way back to this house of the dead. A
crypt for romance placed under matrimonial
moratorium. In memoriam.
(16.2.21)
FEAR
Feeling tired, washed up, drained
Moody, irritated, relationships strained
Life’s journey just filled with inevitables
Questions answered in mono syllables
What initiates this fearful condition
Invades your space without permission
Starts out small yet urgently this knot in the gut
Leaves you nowhere but sadly stuck in a rut
Attacks your senses blurs your vision
Negative thoughts follow with precision
This surgery will change you to the core
You’ll think a woman not loved anymore
Fear is the venom a tragic lethal dose
Remember when fear comes faith goes
Though this body of death will eventually decay
Just identify the positives in each new day
When negative thoughts your mind assail
Encompass it with faith drape it like a veil
Dispel those thoughts send a message clear
You are wonderfully made with nothing to fear
We are given in totality,
surfing the waves in merriment
simply planning for more.
Up and over the top we go
and it is then the vortices appear.
If we could care less, we would,
for we are young and care
quite readily...
Ah but the vortex, you say?
It sees to depend upon
the place you make for negatives.
Since we cannot do much
about inevitables,
we must climb.
Shall we lead?
Shall we laugh?
Shall we despair?
We have all this totality, here.
This is how to handle totality.
See. Quite forever.
~
she stands by me despite my faults
when i get bashful in public, she tolerates me when i block out
she accepts me flaws and all even when i do not deserve it
she may not be the most beautiful, but that fades with time and age
her true beauty is ever present through the knowledge of herself
her only change is when she is sleeping peacefully in a slumber of quietude
for the first time i feel that i can actually be myself freely without judgement
she is the same person i met a few lifetimes and a few less pounds back
she admires me because of the simple definition of ME as i do her
as a result, we make wonderful partners of dwelling and in travel
with her i feel like i am living on vacation everyday regardless of certain inevitables
for that, i am truly grateful, and i owe every new outlook within me to her
this poem says "Thank You"....
They must have thought that I was brought here to do the numbers....
Ninty-nine's einsteinium square dance razzle dazzle then you shuffle a masque ?
Halloween arrived although ushering in an unknown, mutation towards
These centripetal forces ? Ancient's prophecy to bring into fold of trembling
Foretold standing at their threshold love's thresher; combatant the messenger
If all else shall fail ? Indubitable, unto His heavens as her Angels whom know..
Quietus with hands full of good tidings this heart and a golden marionette ?
Crossing inevitables Mason-Dixon line; cyber space Spirits humanity; poetics Waterloo.
Middays muse; with tinseled fingers and what is this, but a mockeries dust amid the wind....
Lost laxus, in its own schematics malignful maze everwinding unto inevitables end within
A self-fulfillings twisted prophecy spelling this enigmas day of irony, that shall be!?
Finding but a paradox in bittersweets truth clinging to these ivy genuises walls
Scaling both reason and purpose; this mingling of night with day and laughters illusions
Soon to fade into what was no less than a sifting breeze passing by as it lingered upon
This bed of thornful roses which pierced their eyes while tears gathered in shadows blind....
Unto where is the irony to be found in this tangerine testament aneath times carnival tents?!
In quantums theories these porcelain dolls with their charcoal smiles; defiles dangling
Upon strings of pain to be broken inside; a chorus line of deceit and lies kept in a bios box
As daydreaming within this mirages muse amid a maze which they once believed, their truth....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....“The Puppet Master” *
Envelope life with firm arms,be for it pleasure
windings and uprisings take for measure
inevitables that are thrown down your path
sensibily minded doing the math
for you are that compass you do choose
north east south or west,upto you if you lose.
Paul Beadnall 10/9/11
Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name Six Lines of Poetry, Please